Bite, Chew, Swallow
by SerendipityisWonderful
Summary: Shortly after the first trial, the Mastermind employs a new motive: Food won't be supplied until someone commits murder. Confronted with only two options, the students of Hope's Peak Academy are forced to decide whether they'd rather die by the hands of nature, or by the hands of one of their own.
1. Nibble

It was 10 AM when the monitor in Naegi's room clicked on, and Monokuma was shown, lounging in a chair with a glass of something red (Naegi couldn't honestly bring himself to care what the bear was drinking, if it were even possible for the robotic monstrosity to drink. Maybe it was sort of a symbol. Were they to believe it was wine, or blood? He wouldn't dwell on it, he decided). Without much hesitation, the bear began to speak, his obnoxiously piercing voice grating against Naegi's eardrums.

 _Good God_ , just hearing him made Naegi vaguely more open to accepting death.

"Okaaaay, students of Hope's Peak Academy. I've got to say, I'm more than a little shocked..." He trailed off, sounding as though he would be pouting if it were possible for his facial features to be arranged in such a manner. "I'da thought seeing the first execution would really inspire you guys! You know- get your primitive killing instinct kicked into gear!" He let out a shrill chord of laughter. Naegi had already heard it so many times, and now, he could only really wonder how many more times he would have to hear it again. "But another day goes by, and no corpses!" Monokuma said disappointedly. "Aren't you just _bursting_ at the seams with murderous rage?!" He paused. "Which is why I'm asking you all to meet me in the gym ASAP! It's a super-super-super important student/staff meeting! Wouldn't want those pent-up teenage urges of yours to go wild, right? Wouldn't do to have a class sexscapade in such a prestigious academy..." He said this slyly, and it made Naegi sick that the bear could joke around in such a disparaging environment.

"Okay! See you at the gym- don't get lost!" Monokuma announced. And with that, the screen went black, and Naegi was left in his room, the silence pushing against his ears with a palpable dread. A foreboding feeling weighed in the bottom of his stomach, like it was lined with lead. He grabbed at his chest anxiously, biting into his bottom lip. The loss of Sayaka, Junko and Leon consecutively suddenly hit him hard in the gut, almost taking his breath away entirely. God, they were gone. Forever. Even seeing their lifeless bodies-Sayaka's slumped in his own shower, Junko's pierced with countless spears and Leon's suspended from leather straps- hadn't truly solidified their departure from life. Grief welled up in the form of sparkling tears, pricking the corners of his eyes like hot needles. Naegi let out a choking sound, the beginning of what would've been a sob. He felt his throat tightening, and his eyebrows dipped upwards. His whole face contorted into an expression befitting the excruciating misery he felt then, and then, as though he were at the top of a rollercoaster, he tilted forward, and completely broke down. His mouth fell open hopelessly, and he held his hands out in front of him as the first tears fell down his cheeks. A strangled cry came from his throat, and it sounded so foreign, so incredibly wounded, that Naegi just put his head in his hands and sobbed.

He cried for Junko, for having stood up to Monokuma, for having tried to rally them into action. Rolling over in bed, Naegi buried his face into the bedsheets, fingers clawing at soft linen as his tears stained the pristine fabric. He cried for Leon- Hell, the guy had murdered someone, and all Naegi could feel was anger and grief at the fact that he was ever pushed to that point. He knew it never would've happened if it weren't for whatever the hell was going on Hope's Peak Academy. Murder wouldn't even have crossed Leon's mind. Or, so he wanted to believe.

Pressing the sleeves of his hoodies into his eyes, he let out a high-pitched whimper. The cuffs of his hoodie were slowly sucking in the moisture, warmth meeting the tender part of his palm and he lowered his hands from his eyes to his mouth. He smothered the sounds laden with hurt, and sadness, and despair, and everything the world could ever press on his shoulders into his hands.

He cried for Sayaka.

He just cried for Sayaka. Because God, she'd been the only person he'd known. She'd been a sense of security. He'd vowed to protect her, to get her out of Hope's Peak Academy, and now if they ever left at all, she'd be leaving in a coffin. She'd died alone and terrified, and at the hands of a trusted friend, and Naegi could only imagine those few mind-rattling moments before her final breath. The hazy image of Leon looming over her, the knife digging deeper into her with every movement, the desperate message dabbed on the wall with her own blood... Naegi had laid in bed staring at the bathroom door, knowing he was resting just a couple meters from where a human had died. Where his security had died. Where his promise had died.

Where his hope had died.

He cried until his eyes were red and puffy, and he didn't care who saw them. Because anyone in their right mind would be in the same state. Pawing at his eyes to wipe away the salty droplets rolling down the sides of his face, Naegi slowly sat up. He was hunched over then, on the edge of the bed as he clasped his hands together and let his head tilt downwards.

He knew he had to be in the gym. Peering at the clock through lidded eyes, Naegi vaguely noted that he'd been facedown in bed for at least 10 minutes. Usually Monokuma or a classmate would've come looking for him. But the students would have some courtesy today. He knew they would understand. No one would come looking for him while he was grieving, and if he didn't show up to the morning meeting afterwards, no one would blame him. They couldn't.

And Naegi wouldn't blame them, either.

But he would go to the gym, because within those walls, he was at Monokuma's mercy. The mastermind's mercy. He was at the mercy of something that would never, as far as he knew, grant him respite. He held himself for the briefest two minutes he'd ever felt, letting his tears dry on his skin. He wouldn't wash his face- not where he would be able to feel Sayaka watching him with unblinking, cold, blue eyes.

Begrudgingly, Naegi ran a hand through his hair and puffed a shaky breath as he gathered himself and stood on legs as weak as a newborn lamb's, stumbling to the door and heading out into the hallway. He wiped at his eyes again with the sleeve of his hoodie, sniffling as depression pulled at his heart. His face crinkled as another wave of misery washed over him, and tears rose up again. He braced himself, and tried to regain his composure. Swallowing hard, he started to walk.

"Hey! Makoto!" A voice called out from slightly behind him- Ishimaru, alert and energetic far too early in anyone's opinion, was power-walking towards him. Even without being able to see outside, Naegi knew the weather must be gray, yet Ishimaru lacked not a bit of leadership as he walked towards the boy. Naegi briefly felt a moment of panic when he realized he couldn't see Ishimaru's hands, and they were closed like there might be something clutched in his palm, and God, Ishimaru could kill him, he could die right there, Ishimaru was coming towards him, and-

No, he was raising his hand to greet him.

He relaxed only when Ishimaru slowed to match his pace, wondering if Ishimaru knew how absolutely imposing he looked when he was power-walking. He was a little embarrassed that he'd thought to distrust a friend, but he didn't blame himself. After yesterday's events, after it was proven that murder was a distinct possibility, Naegi wouldn't blame anyone for distrusting another student.

"Good morning, Ishimaru," Naegi greeted him, though sounding a little more somber than he would've liked. His voice was thick from having cried, and he averted his eyes so Ishimaru couldn't see that they were reddening and slowly puffing up. While he might've not cared a few minutes ago, he was now realizing he didn't want to make himself look any more pathetic than he already was. It would just make him a target. "Look, I'm really sorry about bein' late to the gym..." He sniffled again, and drew his hoodie sleeve across his face. His eyelids felt itchy, having been scrubbed with the fabric of his sweatshirt.

But because the atmosphere was already somber enough, Ishimaru held a brief note of dejection in his eyes as he spoke. "Yes, you were late, but given..." He faltered. "Given the situation, it was unanimously decided that we wouldn't put too much pressure on you about arriving. We won't have our meeting in the dining hall, either, this morning, because of the meeting- Oh! Actually, because attendance is mandatory, it would be good to have our meeting directly after Monokuma's meeting. That way, we can have Byakuya, Fukawa, and Kirigiri join us to discuss..." He hesitated, and smiled triumphantly. "E-Escaping!"

The fact that Ishimaru still believed that escape was possible was astounding, Naegi thought. But he could tell that Ishimaru, even, likely knew that escape was just as impossible as it had been the minute they arrived and was simply pretending otherwise. Commendable characteristic of a leader, really. But Naegi didn't have the energy to consider that. In all matters of sincerity, he just wanted to crawl into a ball and sleep for another several hours.

"What do you think it's all about?" Naegi asked vaguely. He didn't really care one way or another. At that point, nothing could bring him down any lower, and there wasn't a single shred of joy to be found that could raise him up. This wasn't despair, really, no, that was a force far greater than what weighed upon his shoulders at that moment. If despair was the lack of all hope, then Naegi had just enough hope to keep his feet moving, one in front of the other. "The meeting, I mean."

One in front of the other.

Left, right.

Left, right.

"It's of grave importance if it warrants a meeting ordered by the director himself!" Ishimaru said, voice firm. His stern, red eyes fixated on the gate at the entrance of the dorms. "We may very well be in the midst of a student council election, Naegi. Having a student council would greatly improve student conduct by enforcing some semblance of trustworthy authority!"

As Ishimaru blathered on about the importance of student council responsibilities, Naegi looked down at himself and realized he looked like more of a mess than he would wish. Naegi knew he hadn't slept much since they'd been thrust into the killing game. Clothes disheveled, hair permanently set in place, Naegi knew he probably looked pretty haggard. But at that point, all he was concerned about was the fact that he now looked remotely defenseless now.

He'd never been particularly bothered about his appearance. But he remembered how Junko had tried explaining to him the trends circulating through the world of fashion just before they'd come to the school- a sudden bolt of cold, dull pain resonated through him, as though he were a brass gong and someone had struck him with a mallet. Even her brash, air headed personality was missed. Everything about the person that was Junko Enoshima was missed. Naegi still couldn't get over the gaping hole she would leave in the group. Just one person, he thought, and still so much of his heart had been torn away with his friend's death. So, rather than listen to Ishimaru listing each and every chair open on the student council, Naegi stared at the floor in front of him and listlessly followed him.

He noticed that his lips stuck together, as dry and cracked as they were. His throat itched for something to drink. He made no comment.

The two walked more or less at the same pace until Naegi realized that Ishimaru was slightly ahead of him, and he stepped a bit quicker to keep up. This happened several more times until Naegi was practically jogging to catch up to Ishimaru, and finally-

"Makoto, I expected better from you than running in the halls."

It was only a short while before they reached the gym, with their pace as it was. Sakura, Aoi, Fukawa, and Chihiro sat together, with Sakura and Aoi discussing something, occasionally asking and fielding questions for Chihiro. Fukawa was preoccupied with staring at Byakuya, and whenever Aoi moved to include her in the discussion, she spat something cruel at her and was consequently left alone. Really, the young lady was more of a cancerous lump that you more or less tolerated, as toxic for your health as it wars. Honest sympathy was the general agreement- Aoi was far too sweet for her own good, adopting Fukawa into her conversations and interactions with other students.

Kirigiri was hosting mild conversation with Byakuya, although it looked incredibly stiff and forced on both ends. Celestia managed to break the ice with a charming smile and quip, but as that unnerving quality of her sincere expression melted into the mood, Kirigiri and Byakuya naturally split apart and went to separate corners of the room. Celestia then scoffed when she thought no one was looking. Red high heels clicked against the floor as she stalked over towards Yamada. The chubby student was sitting alone, art pad in his hands as he idly sketched something too blurry to make out. As Celestia approached, it appeared as though Yamada had shivered, and instinctively turned around, face losing a good amount of color as she smiled imposingly. From then on, it looked like mostly one-sided demands between the two.

Mondo was watching Hagakure as he cradled his crystal ball in his lap apart from the other students. He gazed into the glass confines and sighed, despair practically radiating from him. Naegi sat, disinterestedly, in one of the chairs that had been arranged upon their "orientation ceremony" only a short while ago. Just recalling the swirling, sickening cocktail of shock, horror, and despair he'd felt that moment made his head spin.

"Glad to see you all gathered sooooo quickly!" Monokuma sprung up from behind the podium as per usual, and flopped onto the stand, looking smugly satisfied with himself. The class stood at attention, and watched the bear adjust his weight against the podium's surface.

"Well? Any guesses?" He asked, impatiently. His stubby, little arms crossed, and Naegi felt a surge of rage pulse through him like white-hot magma. It was so intense, so physical, he had to bite the insides of his cheeks and clench his fists to contain it.

"Guesses about what?" Aoi asked, glaring at the bear with a fierce, accusatory scowl as she stood, slowly. Her fists were balled at her sides, and Sakura put one hand on her shoulder to calm her down. Chihiro timidly rose behind them and guided Aoi to a chair to sit. The helpful, energetic athlete melted away, and in her place was an Aoi Asahina brimming with the same numinous feeling of malice Naegi was experiencing. In fact, as the class as a whole tensed up, it was an almost completely shared emotion. Togami, Kirigiri, and Celeste, naturally, stood rigid and appeared as emotionless as ever.

(But in secret, they might admit that the same underlying feeling of anger resonated within them, too.)

"About why I've gathered you all, silly! Well, let's hear it- what's going on in those little heads of yours?!"

"You're going to prompt us to slaughter each other by bribing us," Byakuya said evenly, a vaguely disgusted look plastered on his handsome features. His arms were crossed, and he lifted his chin, as though bothered by something. He stared at his fellow students with something like haughty pride glittering in his eyes. "I'd wager as much."

"You guessed it, glasses!" Monokuma crowed. "Even though I'm mad you figured it out so quickly, you definitely got it right..." He sighed, shrugging. "Guess I'll just spit it out, right?"

There was a pause.

"Or maybe I'll have you guess it!" Monokuma cackled. "And while we're at it, I'll just snatch some of your better ideas and put em' to use if this one doesn't go over well! Hahaha!" He waited, but all he received in response was hate-filled stares and three more or less unaffected looks from the usual three. He slumped. "O-Oh, well... if you're not all that enthusiastic, maybe we oughta hold off-"

"Hurry the fuck up!" Mondo growled. "Bring it on, we can take whatever you throw at us!"

"Oh, Mondo!" Monokuma said, elated. He made a show of swooning. "I'm so happy! I was just going to let you all off scot-free, but it looks like Mondo just haaad to yell at poor, little monokuma. It's all because of Mr. Oowada, here! I guess I'll have to punish you guys after all!"

"You were going to force us to kill each other anyhow," said Yamada gloomily.

"You know it, baby." Monokuma smiled, eye glowing ominously as he pressed his chubby paws together. The group shuddered inwardly. "Wanna hear it, then?"

"If you will," Celestia tittered politely.

"I'm taking away the food."

The silence only lasted for another couple of seconds, a couple of heart-pounding, mind-racing moments. Hagakure frowned, face scrunching up in confusion and broke the tentative quiet. "What'dya mean, you're taking the food?"

"You heard me!" Monokuma spat, paws going to his stomach as he let out his signature stream of laughter. "I'm taking all the food away! That's it! No more! I'm going to stop supplying you guys with yummy-yum-yums!"

Even Kirigiri seemed cautious. "You will stop giving us food until someone is killed. Is that what you're saying?" Her tone was icy.

"You're gonna make me shiver," Monokuma mocked. "Yeah, you got that right. Doesn't that make you just wanna explode?! Come on, get to it! I want a bloodbath in here! That, or you can slowly starve to death! Can you imagine anything worse? Running out of energy, and watching your fat and muscle waste away, day by day... Hour by hour, until you're all nothing but skeletons!"

"Y-You can't do this," Aoi stammered. Chihiro had tears coming up. Sakura looked stiff.

"Y-You could use a little less food, y-y-yourself," Fukawa hissed behind Aoi's back, but no one heard her.

"No, you can't do this," Aoi carried on, lip trembling. "We're going to starve to death. W-We..."

"Oh my god," Chihiro mouthed behind her hand.

"Yup! So unless you feel like starving to death, make sure you get that killing drive of yours in gear! Let's all do our best to graduate!"

A beat.

"Oh, right, and you'd better start clearing out the food in the kitchen before it rots! I'll count that as littering and punish you if you don't!"

And with that, Monokuma slipped out behind the podium and was gone, leaving his audience of teenagers stunned into another, more sustained silence. This period would last for a much longer time.

At that point, Ishimaru's allegedly unfaltering courage did something it hadn't done since his second day in middle school. It wavered.

As he stood there, surrounded by his fellow classmates and friends, the Super High School Level Moral Compass realized that to take charge of his fellow student body required amounts of conviction that he could feel draining out of him by the second. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. For once, he couldn't take charge of the group. He wouldn't even try. All he wanted was for someone to take his place and lead the class. It might've been his responsibility, but for just one moment, just one second- He wanted to be allowed to be as scared as everyone else was.

"We need to get to the kitchen."

The thought made it's way through the group. This motive was one that would eventually kill them one by one, or would steal two of them away without warning- a victim and a killer. It loomed over their heads, and one by one, they realized the futility of the situation. This would end in death, either by their hands, or by the hands of nature itself, a force too unruly and immensely powerful to ever hope to combat. Starvation, one of the slower, more abhorred modes of death, backed the fear of the entire class.

It still hadn't sunk in.

They still weren't considering murder as an option. None so truly that they weren't worried about starving to death. Everyone anxiously recalled the last meal they'd had, whether the food they'd eaten had been resupplied before the motive was announced . Some guiltily remembered eating quite a bit, and, hands over their stomachs, many thought of days they'd been hungry. The teeth that seemed to line their stomach, biting at every bit of matter that it came upon, sometimes even folding in on itself and cutting into flesh, dissolving indeterminable amounts of fat and burning extra, stored sugars. The hollow feeling that they'd contained with uncomfortably empty bodies. And then they tried to imagine what it would be like to be emaciated and at the brink of death after they ran out of food.

Some imagined what it would take to drag a member of the group away and snap their neck before anyone realized they were gone. But flickering thoughts, most assuredly, and none so substantial that anyone really lingered on them.

Except for one student.

The class rose in a matter of seconds, all chattering amongst themselves in worried, increasingly louder tones. Tears were running down Aoi's face, down Chihiro's face. And suddenly they were sobbing out loud, hands on each others' shoulders. "No!" And Naegi couldn't hear who had yelled it over the sound of tears and sniffling and terrified muttering. But at that moment, panic erupted. Chair clattered and screeched across the floor as the class moved around, clumping together and spreading as each of the classmates meandered about, shell-shocked expressions lingering on pale faces.

Screaming, crying, sobbing, yelling, demands, questions, frenzied worries voiced aloud, all at once. Naegi's head was swimming with it all, and at the exact moment he felt as though he would lose it-

"Hey! Get a hold of yourselves!"

Ishimaru had made his way to the door before anyone could move to get out. He stood, arms outstretched. He could've been blocking the door, or gesturing to include everyone in his address. His eyebrows slanted downwards, he stared slightly above their heads, determination burning away in bright, red eyes.

"We can do this. We can split our food into rations. We can improvise. We are not going to go out like this. We can defeat the mastermind- we can escape before our very last provisions run out." There was a moment where Naegi realized how weak Ishimaru's argument was. Up until then, there hadn't been a chance in hell at escape, and they didn't even know the ID of the mastermind yet. But the sight of their decided class representative was so inspiring at that moment that, for even a second, Naegi had forgotten that three of his friends had died just the other day.

"We're going to be okay," Ishimaru said, breathlessly. His shoulder slumped forward, as if saying that had taken the last bits of energy keeping his posture as perfect as it was. "Let's do this. Let's stay calm, and let's do this."

Sleeves dabbed at tears, sniffling emanated from the assembled students, aggravation turned into what fueled slight nods of begrudging agreement. Naegi turned around, looking into the red-eyed, worried, outright terrified expressions on his friends' faces slowly slip into something calmer, wiser. The mindset that any survivalist needed to keep going. Something strong. It was as though they were a pile of wet kindling, and with Ishimaru's words, not only had they been dried, but they'd burst into flame. Naegi could feel the warmth on his cheeks. Eyes still sore from the morning, he looked around to see his classmates wiping tears away, crossing arms, and putting their hands to their heads as they tried to right themselves and act mature. If not for themselves, then for the sake of each other.

This was what hope was, he thought. Something caught in his throat, and he let his lips part in a reassured grin. Something that could've been a smile if there'd just been more of it, if their hope was just a little more concentrated.

If Junko, Sayaka, and Leon weren't still clinging to his shoulders like a cape.

"Okay." Ishimaru shifted slightly, arms falling back to his sides. "Okay. First, we need to go to the kitchen and warehouse and take inventory. We have a lot of food, we know that already. But what we need is to divvy it up into portions for each student and make them last for as long as we can. Know that this is going to be trying for all of us, and there's going to be fighting and hoarding and... We're not going to like it at first, but we can do this. More than anyone else, we can do this."

"He's right." Kirigiri stepped forward, turning on her heel. "This is going to mean much smaller portions of food, and cutting out meals. We might have to extend our food supply for weeks, or months if we can't make headway in finding the mastermind and escaping. But we need this to be an unchallenged decision. Rations are our first and only plan. Raise your hand if you have any questions or objections."

No one raised their hand.

"Great. Second movement. We may have to hold off on meals, or we'll have to rotate a position where someone might not be able to eat a meal for one day. Can we agree on this as well?"

Yamada's hand shot up like lightning- "We'll have to skip days of eating?! T-That's bad for our health, right? We can't just skip meals..."

Mondo's hand joined Yamada's, along with Celestia's. "That's bullshit," Mondo said brashly. "We don't have to skip meals. Let's just hurry up and find a way out! You need your energy to keep up the search, right?!"

"I refuse to be deprived of food, for any period of time. I'll eat as I please," Celestia said snidely. With that, Togami tsked and, not to be outdone by some gambler, he added, "It goes without saying that I'll do the same."

"Don't we need to eat to stay strong and healthy?"

"Yeah, it'll be bad for us if we can't even focus on looking for the master mind because we're so hungry..."

"We're really going to starve, aren't we?!"

"Losing some weight would be doing you a favor, anyways!"

"M-M-Master says he likes g-girls with... a l-little bit of meat on th-their bones...!"

"That's enough," Kirigiri announced. "This is necessary for us to survive. If anyone ends up at a state where they're rendered completely unable to continue the search on their own, we'll put in place countermeasures to nurse them back to health. The more healthy members of our class should fare well enough."

"We need to get started," Ishimaru added meekly, to diffuse the tension a bit. "Monokuma was right. The fresh vegetables will rot if we don't hurry and work on preserving them."

"Okay, who can help with the perishables in the kitchen, then?" Naegi asked, tiredly.

"We need people who can cut the food into pieces, salt them to preserve them, and box them up. The other food, we'll have to eat over the course of the week, and they should be cooked and stored so they can last as long as possible. Volunteers?" Ishimaru prompted.

Chihiro meekly raised her hand, as did Aoi, Fukawa and Hagakure, surprisingly enough. Ishimaru nodded. "I'll join that group, and we'll get that done. Let's head out now. Chop chop! And no running in the halls!"

"You're like, a living contradiction, dude," Hagakure muttered under his breath as they exited. The joke, which had gone largely unheard by Ishimaru himself, made Naegi laugh quietly, and smiles spread through the more lighthearted members of the group.

"The rest of you are going to need to gather every food item from the warehouse, determine which are perishable and non-perishable, and then assemble all the food in the kitchen, I assume," Togami said mildly.

"You're not going to help?" Naegi asked, genuinely trying not to sound even the slightest bit presumptuous. He knew it would sound as though he were trying to knock Togami off his high horse, which was the furthest thing from the truth. The last thing he wanted was to end up on Togami's list of people he would vanquish the second they were out of the school.

"Of course not," Came the reply, taut with annoyance.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Mondo asked, frowning indignantly.

"The library, of course," Togami blew air out in a stream, clearly exasperated. "Someone has to employ their brain cells around this layabout warren. If we're to ever escape, that is."

"I'll be searching the school for other supplies and the like," Kirigiri added.

"Oh," Mondo said, knowing full well that he was the least bit likely to contribute to anything that 'employed brain cells' or concerned escaping. "I guess... The rest of us will search the warehouse, then, I don't fuckin' know..."

Yamada and Celestia lagged behind until Kirigiri glared at them so vehemently that they could only look terrified and spited, respectively, as they reluctantly joined the group that was heading to the warehouse. Naegi joined them, and Mondo followed suit. Without a word, the group left the gym and headed towards the warehouse in the hotel. Kirigiri and Togami followed them to the door, and then turned to head up the stairs to the second floor.

It wasn't until they reached the school store that Mondo leaned over to Naegi and whispered,"Yo." It was so barely audible that Naegi wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it until Mondo nudged him and said it again, a bit louder that next time.

"W-What's up?" Naegi asked faintly. The first punch he'd gotten from the gang leader was staggeringly powerful enough that from that point on, he'd been wary around him. But Mondo was staring at him with a puzzled frown on his face.

"Hey... Don't laugh, or I swear to God, I'll knock your teeth in... But..." Turning his head left and right quickly to make sure that neither Celeste nor Yamada were within earshot (Ishimaru was marching far ahead, so it wasn't as though he could hear them anyways), he leaned over to Naegi and asked, "What the fuck is a 'non-perishable'?"

* * *

"We just have to cut all this stuff up into little cubes, right?" Aoi asked humbly. "Do we have anything to keep them in? Like, tupperware or something?"

"Um," Began Chihiro, who was now searching in the bottom cabinets. "I think those would be in the warehouse. Should I go and get them?"

"No, I'll go," Sakura said firmly. "If there are containers there, I'd rather carry them back than have you do it, Chihiro."

"Oh," Chihiro said faintly. "Thank you, Sakura."

Sakura left, stony-faced, as the rest of the assembled students started to pile the different fruits and vegetables up, each retrieving a cutting board. They stared, silently, at the rack of knives. The one that had previously been lodged inside Sayaka's stomach had been replaced, clean of any blood or gore, and looking, for all the world, as though it were really just an innocent cooking knife. Ishimaru reached out for the smallest knife, as he was starting with the thinner foods, asparagus, and chives, and the like. He avoided looking at the weapon responsible for Sayaka's murder. It was apparent that knives would never be the same, would never be meant for the cut of food again. It was meant for the cut of human flesh in that school, where the laws of nature had been so twisted.

Chihiro followed suit, taking the second smallest knife. She barely reacted, except to look mildly uncomfortable. Aoi reached out, unsure of herself, before grabbing the largest knife, even though she was only working with bell peppers and mangoes, as opposed to the slabs of meat that Sakura would be working on. Hagakure himself refused to use a knife, and was content to simply preparing the pans with salt in them for rolling the slices of food in. He would be in charge of salting and packaging, as decided. Anyone who could finish their allotted pile of food would join him, until the packaging was also finished.

"Wish we had some music or something," He said out loud.

"It'd just distract me," Aoi said despondently. "Besides, we probably have way different taste in music. You probably listen to, like, boring stuff. Like hippie music."

"Yeah? What type of music do you listen to?" Hagakure challenged, looking up from a massive mountain of salt. He plunged the scoop into the middle of the dune, and crossed his arms.

"Country music," Aoi said defiantly. "Western stuff!"

"Well I listen to that stuff, too!" Hagakure said. "And I listen to hardcore metal!"

"So do I!"

"Yeah, well do you listen to techno music?!"

"Totally! Do you listen to pop?!"

"Definitely, man, that's basic! How about Tibetan monk chants?!"

"That's not even a song."

"It's got a good beat, though."

"You really listen to that...?"

"Well, I mean..."

"... Do you listen to rap?!"

"Duh, of course!"

"Guys," muttered Ishimaru. "We're supposed to be preserving the food."

Aoi and Hagakure paused, each slowly returning to their work as they contentedly yelled song titles and artists back and forth, becoming increasingly excited as they did. And there, in the middle of the cold tile and hard surfaces of the school kitchen, happiness bloomed in the midst of despair.

Meanwhile, Sakura had reached the warehouse and was just then entering through the colored doors. "Hello," She began, bowing her head momentarily to confer her respect. "We in the kitchen were wondering if it would be possible for containers to be procured from the warehouse, in order to store the food."

"Containers?" Yamada poked the bridge of his glasses, sweat dribbling down the side of his face. He gasped, and patted at his knees, clouds of dust rising from his pants as he approached the martial artist. In truth, he hadn't actually been doing much heavy lifting, but you'd never know just by looking at him. It might very well have been true that the heaviest thing he'd lifted to date was his art tablet. "Yeah, we have some here. I should know- I was the one who stacked them up in the corner, there!" He seemed immensely proud of himself as he pointed to the corner. "They're kind of big, though, so you'll probably only need one or two. They only come in one size."

"Three, I think," Sakura said. "There needs to be room for extra spices and seasonings."

"Oh, sure," Yamada said, pulling his slippery glasses off and wiping them off on a pink cloth he produced from his front pocket. He pushed them back up on his nose and turned to continue busying about with one of the shelves. Celestia relaxed on a cardboard box, and while it did irritate her that Celestia wasn't lifting a finger to help the others, Sakura knew that nothing would come of her attempting to push the diva into actual work. She did note that Naegi was working with Mondo on one of the taller shelves. Naegi was up on a footstool, grabbing cans and handing them down to Mondo, who would inspect them and put them in one of two of the containers that Yamada had pointed out to her. Apparently sometimes Mondo wasn't sure which bin they should go in, and he'd have to show the can to Naegi, who would point to the bin it belonged in.

'Does Mondo not know what non-perishables are?' Sakura wondered, curiously.

Shrugging and grabbing three of the containers from the corner, Sakura surveyed the room one more time before heading on her way back to the dining room. On her way there, however, she was stopped by none other than Fukawa, who squeaked as she bumped into a mass of solid muscle. "O-O-Oh!"

"Fukawa. Are you not working with the others?" Sakura asked, narrowing her eyes sternly as she blocked the authoress.

"N-No..." Fukawa said, edging away from Sakura as she scowled at her suspiciously. "I-I'm just... l-l-looking for M-Master..."

"Togami, you mean?" Sakura confirmed. "Are you going to be studying with him?"

"I-I-I... Y... Y-Yes!" And, scurrying off, likely to stalk Togami as was Fukawa's favorite past time of late, the writer disappeared in a matter of seconds. Sakura simply wrote it off- Fukawa would hardly have been much help in the kitchen with the way she was. Hoisting the containers so they were more comfortable against her shoulders, Sakura continued through the central plaza area towards the dining hall.'

* * *

As Fukawa ran along the hallways, she felt vaguely scornful of Ishimaru in particular. If only he could see her now, he'd probably have a fit. She snickered to herself. What a pathetic excuse for a 'Moral Compass', to get so excited over something so insignificant. She was superior to him, though. It wasn't as though her Beloved actually lathered that over-agitated hall monitor with as much attention as he did her. And if he did, Ishimaru was either to stupid or inappreciative to notice.

She was just skittering along down the hallway when she heard the boys' bathroom door open. Panicking, Fukawa ducked down the segment of the hall towards the pool, hiding behind the wall. The last thing she wanted was for Byakuya to catch her and send her away from him. She couldn't handle such an outright rejection, not at a time like this. He was her only coping mechanism. As she anxiously waited, there was the sound of heels clicking against the floor, and Fukawa peeked out from the corner to observe Kirigiri, jotting something down in a notebook. She was facing away from Fukawa. Breath catching in her throat, Fukawa slunk back behind the wall, palms pressed behind her, and her back against the surface.

She waited a bit for Kirigiri to finish, before listening as the sound of her footsteps slowly make their way down the hallway.

She frowned.

Hold on.

Hadn't Kirigiri come out of the boys' bathroom? What was she doing in there? She was a woman, wasn't she? Unless Kirigiri was secretly a man. Shocked, Fukawa considered the fact that Kirigiri might be just an exceptionally pretty boy, and the longer she thought about it, the more she realized that Kirigiri might be her type, if indeed, she was actually a he.

Suddenly disgusted with herself, she reasoned, Kirigiri was most definitely a woman.

As she watched Kirigiri turn the corner far down the hallway, Fukawa slowly came out from hiding and stole out into the hallway, peering curiously at the boys' bathroom as she did. What had Kirigiri been doing in there? Was she just into mens' toilets? Fukawa felt a prick of interest, and made a mental note to scribble about it in her journal later. Maybe she'd write about a character with an obsession for toilets, and being belittled in public. Sighing happily, she encroached upon the library door, and, with all the intentional dexterity of a thief, she pried it open slowly.

Without a noise, she slipped between the library shelves and crouched, peering at her beloved Togami from the side.

God, he was gorgeous.

* * *

Idly, the mastermind watched the proceedings from the monitors connected to the cameras in each and every room. Were they really trying to avoid murdering each other by storing food and making it last for as long as they could? The whole point of the motive had been to create tension, and get each of the students to fight like dogs for scraps of food. This? This wouldn't entertain anyone, much less the mastermind.

Teamwork, friendship, determination.

Hope.

It disgusted the almighty mastermind.

"Mh. Well, I guess there's always the next motive..."

And then an absolutely brilliant idea made it's red carpet appearance and suddenly the next motive wasn't at all necessary.

No, this one would work just fine.


	2. Munch

By the time the massive pile of food had been reduced to tiny cubes and rolled in salt and seasonings, nighttime was fast approaching. The people who had organized all the food in the warehouse had managed to transport each container of food to the kitchen to keep everything organized, and the boxes were being stacked against the wall. At this point, Mondo, Sakura, and Hagakure were working together to help pile up the cartons. Aoi leaned against the counter with a cup of water, trying to wash the taste of salt out of her mouth. She'd eaten one of the cubes of steak that had been spiced, and would regret it for the next 15 minutes as she tried to dillute the savory flavours from her tongue.

"You just gonna sit there?" Hagakure gasped, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"Hey, gimme a break. I was the one who cut all that stuff up," Aoi said, frowning slightly.

"T-Then... Celestia, how about you help?!" Hagakure asked.

"As if. The heaviest thing I've ever lifted are poker chips," Celestia said back, glaring slightly.

Frowning, and nowhere near the indecency to ask Chihiro to help, Hagakure dejectedly resumed the process of picking up the weighty bins and stacking them ontop of the others. Togami lounged in a chair in the dining hall, along with Kirigiri, though they sat at different tables. Togami was leafing through what looked like an old archive file on something, while Kirigiri appeared to be deep in thought, one hand holding her chin as the other rested on the table in front of her, patiently.

Only a few more minutes passed before all the cases of food had formed a neat pyramid against the wall, and the students assembled in the kitchen to stare at the formation. There was a moment of puzzled silence in which the students all concernedly thought to themselves that the amount of boxes looked a lot smaller than the original pile of food they'd been split up from. It was Ishimaru who, again, broke the spell and spoke up.

"Well, I guess we... should decide the portion sizes, now." He thoughtfully eyed the containers of perishable items that were spread around the base, and were left apart from the pyramid. "Looks like we'll have to start with the perishable food first, because it'll expire."

"Mondo and I organized them by expiration date, too," Naegi added helpfully.

"Nice. Thanks, guys," Ishimaru said sincerely. "How long do we have before the last bit of perishable food expires?"

Naegi looked up, sucking in air as he thought about it. "Erm... I think, maybe 2 weeks?"

"So that means, what, thirty-five days? How many boxes do we have here? Uh... Looks like just five in total." Ishimaru was quiet for all of three seconds. "We'll have to split the boxes so that they last us for a week each. It wasn't like there was a lot of perishable food to begin with, so that'll mean pretty small serving sizes."

"Sounds fine to me," Hagakure said heartily, clapping the nearest person on the shoulder- which happened to be Celeste. Scowling at the fortune teller, she plucked his wrist from her shoulder and shoved it back at him, making sure to dig her metal fingertip into his skin. He recoiled, and frowned worriedly as he nursed his injury, edging away from the cause of it.

"Alright, then. Who can help me split the rations for tonight?" Ishimaru queried. "I'd like for us to be able to eat dinner as usual. From now on, we'll have to keep up our strength so we can continue to look for a way out of this place."

"I can do it," Naegi said, raising his hand slightly. "I don't really have anything else to do. Besides, it'll help me keep my mind off things." He didn't want to mention the fact that the things he wanted to get out of his head were the dead bodies of his friends, the fact that all he wanted was to sleep throughout the rest of the day, the fact that even interacting with his fellow classmates was killing him because there was a gaping hole in the fabric of their student body that used to be bridged by three complete, sentient, lively, jubilant, people. Human beings that, if it hadn't been for the damned mastermind, should still be alive.

"I'll help," Offered Chihiro. Now, Chihiro didn't have a reason to help like Naegi. But on the rare occasions that a job came up, Chihiro liked to help out. She couldn't very well assist when it came to matters of physical strength, no matter how much she'd like to be able to, but little chores such as this were the perfect way to help her friends. She could, at the very least, help with this much.

"Great. Then the three of us are gonna... Well, it looks like we're going to need to split the boxes into seven portions first, one for each day of the week. And then from there, we'll split one of the seven portions into twelve servings sizes for each student. Sound good?"

Naegi reached for one of the boxes and picked it up. He put it down on the center island, and opened it. Chihiro stood on her tiptoes and peered into the container, before saying, "Perhaps we should lay everything out on the table?"

Naegi shrugged, and then helped take everything out of the box and set it on the table as Ishimaru busied about spreading them around.

After having set the contents of the box on top of the counter, the three students gazed at the mound of food. The majority consisted of wrapped breads, and baked sweets. They wouldn't be much of a source of a nutrition, but they were packed with carbs, and could keep the group going for a while on pure sugar alone. Still, as they started to sift through the various goods on the counter, they couldn't help but realize that there was significantly less food than they remembered packing into the box in the first place. Naegi voice his concerns as they came up.

"Wow," He said, without even a hint of surprise in his voice. "We'd better find a way out of here quickly."

"N-Naegi!" Chihiro said anxiously. "Don't say things like that!"

"I'm kidding, we'll be okay," Naegi offered a slight laugh, but it sounded weaker than normal. "I-I mean, we have Kirigiri and Togami, and..." He paused. "Yeah. We'll be fine. They're both working hard to get us out of here." He sounded, even then, as though he were trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to suade his two classmates. Sensing the tense atmosphere, Ishimaru opted to help diffuse some of the suspense. "For now, let's work on splitting this up."

"This is all just sweet stuff- candies, and…" Naegi squinted at the label on one of the smaller containers that had been left on the counter. "... Um… 'Mariko Candy ToffChews'. Whatever those are."

"Well, these are the ones that expire first. If we want to distend our resources for as long as we possibly can, it goes without saying that these should be what we eat first, too," Ishimaru reasoned. "I don't like the thought of us gorging on sweets- a well-balanced meal is incredibly important to growth and development during the teenage years. But we'll just have to make do."

There was a small pause after this was said, all three not really knowing how to begin. Finally, Chihiro timidly put both hands together, and laid them down on the table as though in prayer, before spreading them, creating a split in the piled of sweets. She then went on and did this five more times, and while the piles were slightly uneven, the food was officially split into seven groups. Straightening up, she peered at her handiwork, frowning slightly as she scrutinized it.

"Mm," Naegi hummed softly. "This pile looks a little smaller, and it only consists of carbs..."

Thoughtfully swapping a loaf of bread for a handful of assorted sweets, Ishimaru looked satisfied. "We can balance all the rest of the portions out the same way. Since all these are desserts, it's not as though we can expect to have a nutritionally rounded meal, but we can at least even out the amount of nutrients and calories and the like."

Silently, the two other students moved closer and started to help Chihiro swap about certain components of each pile, making sure that there was a balance between the fats, carbs and sugars as Chihiro had. Sometimes prompting each other to make another change in one of the portions, the trio managed to finish up with each portion quickly enough. Still, looking upon the piles of brightly colored desserts, it was hard to think of it as much of a dinner. It really only counted as a dessert. At his own home, Naegi could faintly recall memories of his childhood in which he'd beg and plead to be excused from the dinner table, complaining that he was "full", and he didn't have room in his stomach for any more food. His mother would say back, "Well, then I guess you don't have room for dessert, do you?" And in an instant, he'd be sitting again to finish his meal, hurriedly scooping food into his mouth to prove that he most certainly did have room for sweets.

Ishimaru, on the other hand, had never seen so many sweets in one place, and he was honestly almost shuddering at the idea of eating a whole plate only consisting of them. His parents had placed a strict embargo on anything with too much sugar in it, and they had always been careful to give the budding youth only healthy foods. While he didn't participate in many sports, and his athleticism was generally mediocre, Ishimaru had certainly been raised on a health-oriented diet, and even now, he stuck to it. So this would be a challenge for him.

"Think they'll eat this stuff?" Naegi asked, unsure.

"They'll have to. I mean, we don't have any student regulations, per say, but it'd be unfair to everyone if the food was being distributed unevenly," Chihiro explained. "So I doubt anyone is going to try to just eat whenever and whatever they feel like. There might be hoarding or stealing, but I don't think it'll be on a big scale."

"Sounds fair," Ishimaru said seriously. "We might not have to have a guard, but it'd probably be best if we let someone stay in the Dining Hall just in case. Anyways, I'll go call the others in to eat." The hall monitor left right then, turning sharply and heading out into the hall, his voice booming audibly even from the kitchen as he called the rest of the class. Chihiro and Naegi smiled knowingly at each other- Ishimaru might've been loud and long-winded, but thankfully it had it's uses sometimes.

And only sometimes.

"Fukawa!" Ishimaru called, tapping on the door with the back of his knuckles. The writer was likely off at the library, he knew, but it didn't hurt to che-

"W-W-What do y-you want?!"

-ck.

"I just came to let you know that dinner's ready, and that you should report to the dining room as soon as you're ready to eat," Ishimaru said, raising his voice slightly so that he could be heard (just in case Fukawa wasn't cowering behind the door like she was 99% of the times that anyone came calling).

"W-Well d-d-don't hold…. U-Up just because I-I'm n-not there…!" She screeched.

"We won't," Said Ishimaru sincerely. "'See you there."

And with that, he moved on to the next rooms. Before he could knock on Sakura's door, however, Hagakure happened to drift by in the hallway. "Hagakure! If you would, please inform the other students that dinner is currently being served!" Ishimaru commanded while simultaneously tapping on Sakura's door. Hagakure muttered his assent, and did a quick 180, turning to go fetch Asahina. The martial artist answered after a while, towel over her shoulder. "What is it, Ishimaru?" She asked, gravelly voice sounding just a bit more light-hearted if it were possible.

"We're going to be eating dinner shortly, and I thought I'd come and let you know," Ishimaru responded.

"Thank you," said Sakura patiently. A tentative silence followed and Ishimaru awkwardly coughed before turning and going to Celeste's door.

In no time at all, the class was assembled in the dining hall, and everyone had been seated in more or less the same section of the room. Ishimaru stood at the helm of the class, staring at them as though he were eyeing prisoners in a war movie, and he was the general charged with keeping tabs on them. Naegi and Chihiro rolled the small cart with everyone's portions stacked on top of it out into the living room. "Because these foods are the quickest to expire, we'll be eating them first," Ishimaru announced. "There will be one portion for each of you. If you want to swap around food, make sure you're still getting enough to eat."

Slowly, Naegi and Chihiro made their way around the tables, setting plates in front of their colleagues. There were mixed reactions. Mostly confusion, some disgust and annoyance, and some outright joy.

"Do we have to?" Said Celeste in a tone that clearly defined her disapproval of the contents of her plate. "I mean, this is all sugar, isn't it? It's clearly not at all good for our health."

"It's a load of calories," Asahina said defiantly. "I guess just once in a while, sweets aren't so bad. But we can't just eat this crap every day until we don't have any more." She plunged her fork into a pastry and took a good-sized chunk out of it, putting it in her mouth happily.

"I know," Ishimaru said, frowning, but not at all budged by the negative feedback. Yamada was already burrowing into his plate, and most of the other students were picking up their forks. "It isn't much of a dinner, so consider it a dessert. Tomorrow we'll have a proper breakfast, and then we'll be able to get some semblance of a meal schedule."

"It'll take time to even these things out," Kirigiri said suddenly, spoon halfway to her mouth with a mouthful of a pink, gelatinous substance. Closing her eyes and sighing, she lowered the eating utensil just a bit and said sternly without turning her back, "Bear with it for now, and we'll work out a routine."

Celeste tightened her grip around the teaspoon in her hands and smiled with barely restrained anger pushing at the inside of her mouth. "You're quite right. I apologize for.. having complained." She giggled, but it was audibly strained. She did not pick up her fork.

Yamada, sitting across from her at the table, looked intensely uncomfortable.

Togami, as well, didn't eat, and instead stirred a cup of tea idly as he continued to read the file in front of him on the table. Fukawa was eating slowly, eyes on her beloved as she recalled words he'd said before, commenting on her weight.

It was a matter of around half an hour, admist some conversation and half-hearted joking around for the class to finish eating and to start stacking their plates back up on the cart they'd come from. Sakura and Asahina both volunteered to clean the dishes, and by the time they were finished, it was nighttime. The class filed out of the dining hall slowly, and bid each other goodnight as they departed for their separate rooms, and Togami left for the library with Fukawa following him from a safe distance.

"Naegi," Kirigiri called out. The brunette stopped walking, and turned to face the her. He pointed to himself, as though to confirm that she'd really been trying to get his attention. Kirigiri nodded curtly and walked closer, heels making clicking sounds that echoed around the dome-shaped pavilion. "I just thought I'd let you know," She said coolly. "I don't think this is all the mastermind has planned for us."

"What?" Naegi asked, squinting. "You mean, he's going to do something else to us?"

"I don't know yet," She admitted. "But I have a feeling this isn't the end of the motive. Be careful."

Nodding slowly, Naegi watched as Kirigiri gave him a quick, "Goodnight", and turned to head out of the residence area. Still wondering what that had been about, he turned and wearily dragged himself back to his room. That day had taken quite a bit out of him. Finally reaching his room, he neglected to lock his door behind him and flopped into bed. With a pang of guilt spiking him through the chest, he thought that he wouldn't entirely care if someone were to sneak into his room that very night to kill him. Lingering depression still remained in him, though it weren't as much a sickness that was carried throughout himself as the proper path of arteries, veins and capillaries dictated. It was more of just a sludge-like mixture pulsing through his brain. He could almost feel it, as a whole, running rampant inside him and laying waste to everything that presented itself as feeble.

He was feeble.

Eyes fluttering shut, he rolled over, leaving his back to the door, and finally dozed off.

The class sat in silence. Shock threatened to consume them, and there was a palpable silence as they peered at each other, eyes wide and scared, accusatory and worried all at the same time.

They'd congregated in the kitchen earlier than normal. Kirigiri, Hagakure, and Yamada, that morning, were supposed to work out portions (they'd decided it would always be done in teams of three, as two people might work together to provide alibis should more food than necessary go missing from the designated portions), so they headed into the kitchen to get started.

Not five seconds later, there was a loud shout- it seemed to have been by Yamada. Chairs skittered and screeched as they slid out from under each student. There was a moment where they froze. In that instant, in that absolutely insignificant sliver of time, an incredible whirlwind of emotions rose from the classmates. Fear, anger, anticipation, horror, worry, concern, and even worse, the feeling one gets when they're relatively certain they know what happened, and the reality of the situation is so incredibly morbid they can only hope it isn't true. This moment that was wasted on Ishimaru, who immediately sprinted towards the kitchen entrance without so much as a thought to what might've happened. All he knew was that something did occur, and he was

practically in charge of checking things out.

Naegi, Mondo, Chihiro, Asahina, Sakura and Fukawa followed him, all praying that everyone was still alive, that, for the love of God, no one had attacked anyone out of sight. Togami remained firmly in place, though his eyes glinted at the prospect of another interesting little turn in what he called his "game". Celeste followed at a walking pace, not at all concerned with the class' safety, but rather, strongly motivated by the fact that she still hadn't been served her breakfast.

But no one would be eating breakfast that morning.

The boxes were missing.

The space left behind was an incredibly imposing characteristic of the scene, which was now populated by the whole class, minus Togami, of course. The class gathered around it, all gaping noiselessly to where their only source of food was supposed to be. Nothing, not the slightest speck of food was left behind. Words couldn't describe the numinous feeling of cold dread that coursed through iced veins as despair rose in their throats like bile.

They barely registered the clicking sound as the monitor turned on. But the jarring, unnecessarily whimsical voice of Monokuma snapped them out of their temporary stupor. "Gooooood morning, class!" The bear cackled. "Did you miss my normal morning announcement? Well, I was waiting for this very moment, actually..."

"W-Where's the food we... found..?" Asahina asked, slowly. Her voice was hollow.

"I stole it," Replied the mascot evenly. There was an added stream of laughter as he looked around at the assembly. "Nyaaaahahaha! You should see the looks on your faces! Man, priceless! You couldn't sell this stuff at a high-grade art auction!"

And when they turned, they could properly see the works of art scrawled across each other's' faces, and it was one of the most horrible things to ever see. Pale, sweaty, and scared, the class looked as though despair had a shackle around their ankles and was weighing them down by the foot like a ball and chain. It wasn't far from the truth. At least now, the implications that were sinking in were slowly and steadily ruining the confidence they had built up the evening before. It was shattered. Decimated. Totaled.

"I just let you guys gather up the food for me, all nice and neat," Monokuma said. "Pretty convenient, huh? it would've been boring if you all managed to live for the next couple of months, so I just took the liberty of spicing things up. Catch my drift?"

"Oh my god, the last thing we ate was sweets," Chihiro whispered.

"Fuck you!" Mondo yelled harshly. "Give us the goddamn food back, or I swear I'll shove my fist through your fucking face!"

"Ooh, no need to get all uppity!" Monokuma said shrilly. "See, as long as someone dies soon, you'll all have your food back, no problem! I didn't burn it, or anything, like I wanted to- no, it's all intact and delicious!"

"Could you all stop shouting? For the love of everything holy, you'd think that your brain cells are just dripping out of those mouths of yours," Togami said, annoyed, arms crossed as he stepped into the kitchen. The atmosphere chilled by a couple degrees. "What's going on?"

"The bastard took all the food, that's what!" Mondo growled, stepping closer.

"Oh," Togami said, mouth falling open briefly before his mouth formed a vindictive smirk. "Another twist comes to light."

"A-A twist?" Chihiro managed to get out, though she was trembling.

"Of course," Togami said, his tone velvety and cold. "A twist to our little murder mystery game." He shrugged, turning around without an explanation. "This doesn't affect me either way, so frankly, unless you're interested in making an attempt on my life, I'll be in the library studying."

"Ooh! Hey, hey!" Monokuma called out frantically. "Wait, Glasses! I gotta tell y'all something!"

"What is it?" Hagakure asked anxiously.

"Just so you know... Even if someone's killed, the food'll only be returned after the class trial," Monokuma added quickly. "Only when the class trial's done, got that?!"

There were mixed reactions, none of them sounding at all positive.

Even in the middle of the chaos, Naegi could feel his head swimming, as though it'd been filled with marbles and shaken around a little bit for good measure. Eyes threatening to shut, legs just as bent on turning into jello and crumpling to the floor, Naegi's own body was committing mutiny.

The students clamored about, trying to talk over each other instead of listening, until they had to raise their voices to the point of nearly yelling. Frenzy began. Inside, things were reaching a

boiling point.

Outside, the weather was gray.


	3. Chomp

The very next day was absolute hell. Students wandered around aimlessly, shock painted on their faces like the leftovers from a previous meal of complete and utter disbelief. The food was gone. They wouldn't see past 2 weeks like this. They just wouldn't. Togami had confined himself to the library, and was more or less refusing to share his space with anyone else. Fukawa loyally guarded the door, but even she looked a little less manic and more just depressed. Those were the only two that remained set in their daily schedule. The rest of the students had undergone massive changes.

It was Ishimaru who first enacted the rule that no one should be traversing through the halls unless absolutely necessary, and, in fact, if it were possible, they should refrain from any sort of physical activity. Sakura and Aoi had nearly started an uproar over the whole thing, but they'd let him explain solely because there wasn't much else reason for protest besides maintaining their olympian figures. Ishimaru argued that exercise just meant burning calories that were better spent keeping them alive. He'd also reminded them to drink water from the tap as often as possible to tide them over-

And then Monokuma shut off the water.

A whole 8 hours had passed since the water had been shut off, and everyone was edging around the bathrooms and kitchen looking unsure of what they should be doing. Yamada and Celeste, sat in the Dining room and didn't move, the way Ishimaru had insisted. Kirigiri hadn't been seen for the better part of the day. Chihiro had locked herself in her room, as had Hagakure. Naegi and Ishimaru slowly wandered around, as though they were making an effort in getting them out of the school when in reality they couldn't comprehend the situation and they just needed to move, to feel the pattern of their footsteps for something physical to cling to. The day progressed with the dreary boredom that had preceded it, with the added anxiety of knowing that another day would pass without food.

Naegi could faintly recall the events that had transpired shortly after the food had been revealed to be missing. It came to him in a wave of gradual memory recall, and suddenly, he could fill things in, and he could piece together the sounds and the light, and the darkness, and the hope and despair and he felt it to his core. It felt so surreal- like a dream. It was almost as though he were watching some bizarre, disjointed movie, rather than living a life in the hands of some lunatic who was starving them to death.

He felt it, what had happened yesterday. The conflicted feelings welling up inside bubbled to a fine mist that enshrouded him, and it was as though he were seeing an instant replay of yesterday's horror.

"Oh my god, we're going to starve to death!"

"We're gonna starve to death!"

"S-S-Says you! Y-You're so f-f-fat you could k-keep a small t-town full for days!"

"Are you planning on eating him or something?!"

"Oh god, oh god, we're going to have to eat each other like those guys who crashed in the mountains-"

"Don't talk like that! S-Stop it, everyone!"

"I should've known... Damn it, this is all your fault! We should've eaten more last night!"

Ishimaru looked beside himself at the accusation, but he straightened up and frowned indignantly. "How was I supposed to know that we weren't going to be able to eat today?!"

Whoever it was who'd thrown the accusation shrunk into silence, and with good riddance, Naegi though bitterly. Still, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that they'd be in trouble because of their designated "last meal". Shuddering, he felt concern over the fact that he'd even thought of the phrase. It truly would be their last meal, until murder had been committed or they all died off. He didn't even want to think about what would happen to them either way. Starvation would slowly but surely kill them all, one by one. But it didn't have to end that way. He knew that. The only other option was for someone to commit murder, and then…

He could feel chills run up his spine at the thought of someone doing something as horrible as what had happened to Sayaka over again. The fear she must've felt, the dread- he wouldn't wish that on anyone. He couldn't say the same for the rest of his classmates, though, and in the end, that was what really got to him. He never would be able to say the same for his classmates. He'd never wished he was charismatic more than he did then, and he likely never would. If only he were a natural-born leader like Ishimaru, or someone with the intelligence to back their claims, like Kirigiri, he thought. As complaints and fear ran amok in the class grouped together in the kitchen, Naegi could make out each individual voice singing it's own hymnal cacophony. Stringing them together was the familiar melody of despair, playing invisible notes and the white noise of sneakers slipping along tile, of footsteps, of rustling clothes.

The song of dread.

The night came, and each student returned to their rooms.

An impromptu meeting was held at 5 o'clock in the locker room of the bath instead of the dining hall. The temptation to peer inside the kitchen only to be greeted with absolutely nothing was killing their morale, and already, the topic of their meeting was grim enough.

"I haven't made headway," Kirigiri explained. "Neither has Togami. But we're working on it." Staring grimly into the group of her classmates, she looked away and crossed her arms. "In the meantime, no provisions were found in any of the rooms I searched."

"So... no progress so far," Ishimaru said softly.

Kirigiri nodded.

That afternoon was when the first groans were heard. Naegi could feel his stomach churning over nothing, acid desperately searching for something, anything to dissolve and use as nutrients to support his already wasteful teenaged body. He'd been sitting in the dining room idly, sometimes resting his head on the table, sometimes staring about and trying not to think too hard about the fact that his stomach felt as though it were closing around a hard, metal ball. Several times, he had reached down to pat at his stomach in a reassuring kind of motion, as though to tell himself that it was going to be alright. They did, after all, have some of the smartest minds assembled on the front of getting everyone out of there alive.

Still, a meager amount of hope wouldn't put bread in his stomach. Standing, and feeling completely useless, Naegi tried to think over what he knew- which wasn't much. His original idea to explore the questions still left hanging by his slight knowledge of the school was swamped in now unavoidable gray areas. The overwhelming amount of things he did not know almost made it hard to breathe over the lump in his throat.

"Where are you going?" Yamada asked as Naegi headed out of the dining hall. Naegi shrugged. And he really had absolutely no idea where he was going. But he couldn't just sit around. His efforts would go towards helping Kirigiri and Togami. Kirigiri couldn't be found most of the day, almost as though she were purposefully hiding from her classmates.

But Naegi knew where Togami was.

Trekking upstairs, he found Fukawa sitting outside the library door half-asleep. He approached her, kneeling and waving his hand in front of her face. It took only a few seconds before she suddenly reached out, grabbing his wrist until Naegi could practically feel his veins being pinched underneath her spindly fingers. She looked just as shocked as he did.

"N-N-Naegi!" She said, breathlessly.

"Oh, um," Naegi mumbled. "I was just checking to see if you were okay. You were just kind of sitting there..."

"Oh, s-s-sure," Fukawa muttered back. "Y-You were probably t-t-trying to scribble something d-demeaning on my face with a permanent marker, w-weren't you? S-Something to label me as the t-t-trash I am... A-As a filthy, little h-harlot..." And despite speaking as though she were upset about the whole thing, her face was bright red, and her eyes looked more enticed than disgusted. Naegi recoiled.

"No, I wasn't," He defended. "I was honestly just trying to make sure you were alright."

"S-S-Suuuure," Fukawa crowed suspiciously. "And what're you doing here anyways? M-M-Master doesn't have t-time for the likes of y-y-you..."

"Yeah, well," Naegi rubbed his arm, defeatedly. "I'm just checking up on him."

"Why're y-you so concerned for everyone else?!" Fukawa screeched. "L-L-Like you actually care! Y-You're probably testing us l-like a cut of m-m-meat for the first bit of t-tender flesh you find, so you can k-kill them!"

"I'm not!" Naegi spluttered.

"Y-Yeah, right!" Fukawa stood, leaning heavily against the wall at her back. "There's no w-way I'm going to let you g-g-get to Master now!"

"I'm not trying to kill anyone!" Naegi said desperately. "I just want to make sure everyone's okay, and... and..." He lowered his head somewhat. "I guess, ask him if it looks like we're going to ever get out of here..."

Fukawa tensed slightly.

"Well, we're n-not," Fukawa hissed venomously. She knew she was digging into a sore spot of his, and it felt good to strike below the belt, especially when it was someone as pretentious as Naegi Makoto. "We're not making it out of here any time soon, so you might as well kill someone and g-get it over with." She smirked, sadistically.

Naegi's lips parted. Nothing came out except for another sad sigh.

"Okay," He said softly. "I'll, um... I'll just go-"

"Naegi."

The voice was smooth, commanding, firm. Fukawa instantly shivered and make a cooing sound in delight as Togami appeared from behind the library doors. He didn't even glance at her, and instead fixed his eyes on Naegi. His foot wedged between the door and the frame as he maintained his posture, arms crossed, figure relaxed against the wooden frame.

"Come in," Togami said, in more of a demand than a casual request. Naegi looked at Fukawa for a moment as though asking permission silently, before apprehensively stepping towards the other male. It was only a matter of seconds before he was grabbed and shoved inside the library, and the door was slammed shut behind him. Togami, rolling his eyes, pushed past him and returned to his customary seat at the desk, lamp positioned at just the right height and angle that the ambient light stroked Togami's cheek and lit up previously dull, unwavering blue irises. Naegi looked at him, wide-eyed as he tried to understand what had possessed Togami to be so insistent about dragging him into the room.

"Go ahead," Togami said vaguely, gesturing with his hand loosely. "Ask me what you came here to. I'm busy."

"Oh, um..." Put on the spot, Naegi had more or less forgotten what he'd actually came to ask, and, fumbling for the proper choice of words, he finally managed to get out, "Are you doing alright?"

Togami looked annoyed, but he didn't look at him directly, and instead directed his attention to the massive piles of journals and manilla folders stacked next to him on the desk. Pulling one of the notebooks from the top, he tsked and said, under his breath, "... Just as useless as that one outside the door..." And while he should've felt indignant over the insult, Naegi felt more upset that he was being compared to Fukawa in terms of uselessness. At least he made an effort to live. Fukawa was kind of like the pond scum that wallowed about in stagnant water. Not to be rude, or anything, he added mentally, in case any wandering mind readers were around. His mind flashed to Sayaka. He felt a pang. .

A sharp growl pierced the air without warning. Naegi flinched, and Togami, who was apparently the source of the growling, frowned. Apparently, not even student prodigies could mask the fact that they were starving-

Damn it, they were starving.

"When do you think we're going to get out of here?!" Naegi asked loudly, desperately. Mentally exhausted, he slumped against one of the shelves, and stared at Togami, his eyebrows tilted upwards and his mouth open just the slightest bit.

"Are you famished already?" Togami asked, smirking somewhat. Of course, Naegi could've pointed out the fact that his stomach, too, was protesting over the lack of food, as stated by the way it had, and was still sort of rumbling. But he knew it'd earn him nothing but spite.

"Yes," He said, listening to the pathetic pleading tone he'd taken on with such frustration that it almost surprised him he could even as much hatred as he did in that moment. He'd thought such abhorrent feelings were purely reserved for the headmaster- but you learn something new every day. And today, it seemed Naegi was learning things about himself. Togami's legs uncrossed, and he stood, leaning against the desk as he tilted his head, glaring down at Naegi as his back slipped against the wooden shelves and he eventually ended up sitting on the floor. Naegi noted that whenever he was sitting, Togami seemed to feel the need to stand, as though clarifying the fact that he was still in a higher position than him, though they were trapped like bugs in the school that now served as an arena.

"Pathetic," He said aloud, lazily.

"I know," Naegi responded despondently.

"Really. Pathetic, worthless trash."

"I know that."

"Miserable."

"I know."

"Did you also know Asahina was hoarding food in her room?" Togami said, so casually that Naegi had honestly begun to say "I know" again, before his head snapped upright and he stared at Togami vehemently. "What?!" He asked shrilly.

"I suppose that just goes to show how much of an overstatement it is to call you pathetic," Togami said snidely, turning and sitting back down in his chair.

"Togami, what'dya mean she's hoarding food?! Really?! Have you seen her for sure?!" Naegi was on his feet in seconds, approaching Togami with his hands out, shakily. His stomach was killing him, sharp pains lacing throughout his abdomen with every breath. He gave a sharp inhale in response to Togami's bored look.

"Figure it out yourself," He said, disinterestedly. "Though…" There was a glint of something haughty and proud again- that same look that Naegi wished he could slap right off his face sometimes. But he'd never admit that to himself, nor to Togam. "I can't guarantee that she'll still have any left by the time you get to her."

There was a split decision in that instant, one that made Naegi stumble a little bit as he walked to the door. He was going along with what Togami said because it was his stomach that was in control of him at that second. Animalistic urges were rising, and he needed to eat something. Naturally, the presence of food was making him dizzy just thinking of it. And he could already imagine greasy foods, dripping with calories and sweets, and spicy foods-

He hated that his stomach was leading him around like a lost puppy on the heels of some hapless wanderer. And here he was, about to accuse Asahina of hoarding food that the girl would more than likely have generously shared if she really had any. But the height of emotion had taken hold of him with Togami's words. Yes, he would just be succumbing to Togami's expectations, but then, he'd never really held a chance. He just wasn't the type of person Togami wanted. No one was, he thought, personally.

Starting out of the library with regret tugging on his heart, he was met once again with Fukawa's face, peering at him anxiously, and trying to catch a glance from her beloved Togami as the door slammed with resolution. She turned her attention, waveringly, to Naegi's glazed-over expression, and his strangely affected shuffling as he headed towards the stairs.

"Wait, N-Naegi!" She called out. "Where are you going?!"

There was no response.

"Naegi!"

The boy trudged around the corner, oblivious to the shouting behind him. He knew Fukawa wouldn't stray far from the door to the library. She wouldn't, as long as Togami was shut away inside of it, reading file after file in what Naegi could only expect and hope was a decent attempt at getting them out of that godforsaken school. Slowly, he made it to the locker room, flashing his ID to the card reader at the side of the door. He pushed past the door and headed out to the pool area, where only Asahina frequented. The girl was sitting at the pool edge, legs half-submerged in the deep end. Naegi watched, soft brown eyes peering into the distorted reflection of Asahina's legs, kicking first on the left side, then the right, then back again. She sighed, shoulders lowering in…. Sadness? Guilt? Naegi couldn't bring himself to care. All that was in his head was still the food that she may or may not be hiding in her room, the food that she'd been too selfish to share, even though it was for the better of the group.

Didn't she want them to live? How selfish can one person be?! Or was it her plan all along, ever since the first day the food was announced to be ceased in supply, to hoard it to herself and watch as everyone else slowly but surely dissolved under the unbearable weight of nature's course on the teenaged body. She was already a bit more well-off than anyone, muscle mass being as piled-on as it was in her case. Naegi thought this bitterly, as he watched her shoulders sag.

But Asahina was a good person to her core. He knew that. He'd known it every since day one, when she'd greeted him as happily as she had. When she'd defended her classmates in the first class trial. When she'd conversed with Naegi after the whole debacle to ensure that he was still doing alright. And he wasn't. He still wasn't. His heart felt as though it had been bruised, and was being constantly prodded at. The first thought of Sayaka brought up a flood of them, and without warning, tears were again pooling in his eyes. Fiercely scratching his eyelids with his sleeve, he scrubbed them away and angrily turned, pushing through the door so hard it slammed against the wall to it's side, probably leaving a mark with the door handle. He didn't care if Monokuma wanted to punish him for that. He didn't care about anything anymore.

But that was a lie.

As he retreated to his room for the night, he was left with the wavering nightmares left behind of Sakura's face looming over his own, looking, for all the world, as though she'd just been sleeping and was still warm to the touch. Looking, for all the world, as though she were still alive, and it was unfair, and Naegi hated it, and he couldn't force himself to wake up. Sleep pulled on his gut like a weight that kept him pinned to the bed. If he couldn't eat, he supposed he'd sate himself on a heavy meal of bitter rest. After all, he couldn't feel the pain of his hunger when he was asleep.

He was woken several times by the aching of his stomach in the middle of the night, and overall, his sleep wasn't restful at all. Nor was his stomach any fuller than it had been before.


End file.
